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My body trembled as I pushed whatever magic I held into Dukovich, and looked out over the corpses piling up across the marble floor.

Pri was in the center of the room, her twin golden spears flashing as she spun through enemies with terrifying precision.

Blood painted her arms, her hair, her face.

Siggy, Nantia, and Essara fought beside her, their swords gliding through the air, magic crackling along the blades.

My heart slammed against my ribs as my eyes locked onto another figure in the fray—Andrues.

He moved like a shadow, a deadly dance of steel and magic.

Every creature that lunged for him cut down without hesitation, but there were too many.

I saw him falter for half a second, talons scraping against his side, and a scream clawed up my throat before I could stop it, but it was Ata’s voice that exploded from beside me.

“Andrues!” His name ripped from her lungs as her eyes darted back to Dukovich, a choice colliding between the two men.

He turned at the sound of her voice, just long enough for a mezzen to lunge at him. I saw the claws coming before he did, and panic seized me.

Without thinking, I flung my hands forward, magic bursting from my palms like a raging inferno. The air warped with heat, and a stream of fire shot toward the creature, engulfing it in an instant, the stench of burning flesh filling my nostrils.

“Go,” I said, my words frantic as my eyes snapped to Ata. “I have Dukovich, help Andrues.”

She threw herself into a sprint, leaping over rubble toward him as an explosion shattered into the air.

The final stronghold of the House of High crumbled to dust as Landers descended from the sky, landing with a deafening thud in the midst of the brutal carnage.

Dragon wings unfurled at his back, his bare chest flexing under the blood saturating his skin. Crimson pooled at his feet, dripping from emerald scales as his sight locked onto me. Awe seeped into my rounded eyes.

He was magnificent.

We need to leave. The Silliands army is coming . Landers’s voice slid down the fastening as I finally shook the sight of him between two forms. The dragons are ready to carry us out, the Fallen Ones are headed to them. We need to get the others.

I nodded, as my eyes drifted beyond his shoulder and my heart stopped beating.

It happened slowly, silently, as if I had been frozen, watching the scene move on around me.

A streak of lethal, crackling magic, black as a starless night, hurtled toward Landers’s back. I could feel my jaw fall open, feel the scream that ricocheted from my lungs, but all I could hear was static.

Static as I watched fear bleed into Landers’s irises at the sight of me screaming.

Static as he turned to see the tendrils racing toward him.

For one breath, the world stilled, in the next, my scream shattered through the silence as Wren stepped into the line of magic, taking the hit never meant for him, protecting Landers from the death it would bring.

A sickening crack split the air, and for a moment, everything was silent—just the two of us, frozen in time.

His body arched violently, a glow pulsing from within as the magic burned through him, sinking into his bones.

His mouth parted in a silent gasp, eyes blown wide with pain and shock as he crumbled to the ground.

I tethered to his side before I could breath, my knees slamming into the bloodstained marble as a wave of magic washed over the room, drenching it in the pain that seeped from my pores. Every creature turned to ash as my power flared uncontrollably.

Unholy magic seared through his flesh, dark veins spreading like cracks in shattered glass. His mouth opened as a choking gasp wrenched free. His fingers twitched, curling as if reaching for something—reaching for me.

I scrambled the last few feet toward him, my hands shaking as I pressed them against his chest, as if I could hold him together, as if I could keep him from slipping away.

But the moment my fingers touched his skin, I felt the unnatural heat beneath it.

His body was burning from the inside out, his life force unraveling, dissipating in front of my eyes.

My magic sparked at my fingertips, frantic and unfocused. I tried to heal him, but the wound was too deep, the magic too corrosive. It had sunk into him like poison, eating him alive.

“No, no, no, no,” I sobbed, my vision blurring as tears poured from my eyes. “Wren, stay with me. You have to stay with me.”

Blood seeped from his mouth, dark against his pale lips. His eyes, those beautiful, midnight blue eyes that had always been so full of fire, now looked at me with something else—something far worse.

Acceptance .

His hand lifted, trembling, brushing against my cheek, smearing warm blood across my skin. “I—” His voice was barely a whisper, the sound so weak it felt like a knife to my gut. “I had to.”

A broken sob wracked my body, my nails digging into his flesh as I pulled him against my chest. “No, Wren!” My screams were frantic, my soul shattering with every word. “We need you! Pri needs you! I can’t—” My voice cracked, splintering into something unrecognizable. “Please!”

He tried to lift his head, but the strength had already left him. I grabbed it, clutching his face between my fingers, desperate to hold on, desperate to keep him tethered to this world. His body was trembling, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

“It’s not . . . her.” He swallowed, a pained grimace crossing his face as another wave of agony stole the air from his lungs. “Stop . . . her.”

I choked on a sob. “Who? Wren, who?”

But he didn’t answer.

His gaze flickered, his body stiffening beneath me as a sharp exhale left his lips.

Then nothing.

His eyes stared up at me, open and empty.

His body—still, lifeless.

A sound ripped from my chest, something primal, something that didn’t belong to this world. I shook him, my hands pressing against his face, against his shoulders, as if I could force his soul back into his body.

My heart shattered, the sharp and unforgiving pieces slicing into my soul with every beat. I rocked him against me, pressing my forehead to his, begging the gods, the universe, anyone who would listen to bring him back.

But there was no answer.

No miracle.

The world fell away, every sound muted, every sensation dulled except for the searing, all-consuming agony that ripped through my chest. It was as if my heart had been torn from my body, shredded into ribbons, and left bleeding on the cold, unforgiving ground.

He was gone.

He. Was. Gone.

This couldn’t be happening. Not again. Not Wren.

Tears fell like scalding rain against his too-pale face, trailing through the crimson grime.

My body rocked back and forth, cradling Wren’s body against my chest. I wanted to scream, to rage, to tear the world apart with my bare hands. But unrelenting sobs were the only sounds that fled my lungs, echoing through the ruins of the House of High.

This wasn’t happening.

It had to be a nightmare, a twisted figment of my imagination.

Any moment now, I would wake up.

Wake up and find him standing beside me, his arm draped casually around my shoulder with that infuriatingly charming smirk.

I traced my fingers over his face, memorizing every line and angle, willing him to blink, to breathe—to give me any sign that this was not the end.

I wasn’t sure how long landers had been holding me, how long I had been sitting there wrapped in his arms as I wrapped Wren in mine.

Hands wrapped around Wren’s body tugging him from my chest and my eyes shot up to see Andrues lifting him from the ground as Pri’s cry pierced through the haze of my shattering heart. She stumbled toward us, blood dripping from her skin as her face twisted into a look of pure horror.

As if a switch had been flipped from the loss of Wren’s fading warmth, I crashed back into reality with agonizing force. Smoke was pouring through the rubble, fire burning through everything it touched as Andrues took off running with Wren’s lifeless body.

Landers’s hands slipped from my waist, gliding up my body to grip my shoulders as he forced me to meet his gaze, those emerald eyes burning with desperate intensity. “The Silliands’ army is almost here. We have to go before they trap us inside.”

His words penetrated the fog of grief, a flicker of understanding sparking through the static. I nodded, the motion mechanical, my body operating on instinct rather than conscious thought.

Landers pulled me to my feet, my legs unsteady beneath me. The world tilted and swayed, the edges of my vision darkening as I drew from the last reserves of my strength.

His wings unfurled behind him, emerald scales glinting in the hellish light of the flames. Beyond the crumbled walls, I could see the others mounting their dragons, preparing to retreat.

Shadows gathered at my back, weaving and twisting until my own wings billowed from my skin as a thunderous crash shook the ground.

My body snapped toward it as a fresh wave of creatures poured into the once opulent hall.

Their eyes glowing with malevolent hunger, their twisted forms silhouetted against the flickering flames.

Shadows surged within me, responding to the threat as tendrils of black matter curled around my body like living armor. Landers’s hand found mine, his fingers lacing with my own as he tugged me toward the edge of the ruins.

The ground beneath our feet was slick with blood and ichor, the bodies of the fallen creatures littering our path. But Landers held me steady, his grip on my hand never faltering, his strength the only thing keeping my feet moving forward.

We leapt into the sky just as the horde reached us, their talons scraping against the marble floor, their shrieks of rage echoing in our wake.

The wind rushed past my face, whipping my hair into a wild tangle as we soared higher. From this vantage point, I could see the true extent of the destruction.

The once grand fortress lay in ruins, its towering brass spires reduced to jagged stumps, its ornate halls now nothing more than heaps of broken parts. The mezzen swarmed over the rubble like ants, their cries fading into the distance as we climbed higher into the sky.

My eyes scanned the skies, spotting the others flying in formation, dragons cutting through clouds with breathtaking speed.

They were far enough away.

There was enough distance between us for me to make good on my promise.

My gaze tore back to the city burning below us, as shadow encased me and Landers in a protective shield.

Wind dried the tears streaming from my eyes as Landers’s arms slipped around my middle, his chin falling to rest on my shoulder.

His heart beat in tandem with my own, raw power pulsing between our bodies pressed together.

“Whatever you choose, Hyacinth, I am with you.” His breath was hot against my ear as he spoke, his voice low and resolute. “I am with you, to death.”

His words ignited something deep within me, a rage that had been simmering just beneath the surface. The shadow shield around us pulsed and thickened, responding to the maelstrom of emotions swirling inside my chest.

My hands clenched into fists at my sides, shadows coalescing around my fingers like living gauntlets.

I could feel the magic building under my skin, a pressure that demanded release.

It was ancient and primal, a force of nature that could not be contained—a force that could reshape the very fabric of reality.

I didn’t want to contain it. Not anymore.

I closed my eyes, letting the well of power thrum through my veins, and for a moment, I hesitated.

But then I saw Wren, saw Ardan.

Saw them laughing together, teasing and taunting the other as their eyes reflected every memory we would not make. Every moment stolen.

I would end this. Right here, right now.

My eyes snapped open, fixing on the city below.

Sethros, the heart of corruption, the seat of power for those who had brought such misery to Nimbria. I raised my hands, magic pulsing in time with my heartbeat, a rhythm of vengeance and retribution.

With a scream that tore from the depths of my soul, I unleashed the full force of my power.

The sky split open, a chasm of roiling darkness that descended upon the city like the maw of some great beast. Tendrils of shadow, sharp as blades and cold as the void, whipped through the streets, tearing through stone and metal like parchment.

The ground heaved and buckled, great fissures opening up to swallow entire buildings.

The sound was deafening—the groaning of twisting metal, the shattering of glass, the thunderous collapse of ancient structures.

The air crackled with energy, the sky darkening as if the sun itself had been snuffed out.

Every ounce of grief, of rage, of pain poured down the tendrils of magic as the heavens shattered. Rain began to crash against the shield around us, as another wave of power flared in my chest.

I let it all go as the shower drenching the earth turned crimson.

I remembered then, a line I had read in The Stories years ago.

When blood rains down, the devil rises.